And so the world was sweet, and it was strange, Sweet as a bee-kiss to the crocus flower, Surprising, fresh, direct, but ever one. The laughter of glad music did not yet In its echo yearn, as hinting ought beyond, Nor pathos tremble at the edge of bliss Like a moon halo in a watery sky, Nor the sweet pain alike of love and fear In a world not comprehended touch the heart-- The poetry of life was not yet born. 'T was a thing hidden yet that there be days When some are known to feel 'God is about,' As if that morn more than another morn Virtue flowed forth from Him, the rolling world Swam in a soothèd calm made resonant And vital, swam as in the lap of God Come down; until she slept and had a dream (Because it was too much to bear awake), That all the air shook with the might of Him And whispered how she was the favourite world That day, and bade her drink His essence in. 'Tis on such days that seers prophesy And poets sing, and many who are wise Find out for man's wellbeing hidden things Whereof the hint came in that Presence known Yet unknown. But a seer--what is he? A poet is a name of long ago. Men love the largeness of the field--the wild Quiet that soothes the moor. In other days They loved the shadow of the city wall, In its stone ramparts read their poetry, Safety and state, gold, and the arts of peace, Law-giving, leisure, knowledge, all were there This to excuse a child's allegiance and A spirit's recurrence to the older way. Orphan'd, with aged guardians kind and true, Things came to pass not told before to me. Thus, we did journey once when eve was near. Through carriage windows I beheld the moors, Then, churches, hamlets cresting of low hills. The way was long, at last I, fall'n asleep, Awoke to hear a rattling 'neath the wheels And see the lamps alight. This was the town. Then a wide inn received us, and full soon Came supper, kisses, bed. The lamp without Shone in; the door was shut, and I alone. An ecstasy of exultation took My soul, for there were voices heard and steps, I was among so many,--none of them Knew I was come! I rose, with small bare feet, Across the carpet stole, a white-robed child, And through the window peered. Behold the town.